


Decorum Be Damned

by tayls_of_elysium



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Decisions Decisions, F/M, calanthe/eist, i have to include crach because he's so damn fun to write, i need someone to look at me how eist looks at her, maybe a oneshot but maybe not, no beta we die like men, otp, same with mousesack, that last tag always makes me laugh so i'm using it, their chemistry is ridiculous, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayls_of_elysium/pseuds/tayls_of_elysium
Summary: Eist learns that decorum is highly overrated. Calanthe/Eist  Takes place not long after their first meeting.
Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon & Eist Tuirsach, Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36





	Decorum Be Damned

Decorum Be Damned

For much of his life, Eist lived a solitary existence with a minimalistic lifestyle. He needed and wanted very little to survive, mainly food, water, his ship, and the sea. Companionship was an afterthought. He had his family back in the Isles and those he was privileged to call his crew but never did he yearn for more. That had changed rapidly upon meeting her: Queen Calanthe of Cintra.

There she was, a vision of radiance before him, sitting at her throne with her dark hair held together in an elegant knot, the golden Crown of Cintra resting gently upon her head as she spoke in deep conversation to an Ambassador seated at her left. He smiled softly, to himself, his eyes taking in every feature of her face from his seat several feet away at a separate table. Long had the ocean held his entire love and devotion, until the very moment when his cerulean orbs met her charcoal ones for the first time. Her beauty stole his attention and her spirit, which he witnessed through the hours of conversation that followed, stole his admiration and, perhaps if the Jarl was honest to himself, a great deal more. He would never admit it out loud however. After all, he was a simple Jarl from Skellige while she was a Queen of one of the greatest realms. Decorum would not allow it. Eist would not allow it.

No, Calanthe deserved better than he. 

What hope did this simple Jarl from Skellige have of winning the favor of a woman who fiercely defended her throne, held the admiration and love of thousands, and was a ballad in her own right? None. Absolutely none. So the good Jarl kept his distance. He would watch from afar, engage in conversation eagerly and happily with the woman, but never would he share his innermost thoughts and desires for her.

The smile on the Jarl’s face fell as his view was interrupted by the rather large, overly-ornamented head of Foltest, the King of Temeria, who, like Eist, was visiting the Queen’s court for the Harvest celebration feast. It seemed the Queen of Cintra had not only stolen the attention of the Jarl, but also that of the Temerian. Once more, the King pressed himself close to Calanthe, uttering something that led her to give him a small smile, nodding. Eist’s jaw tightened while an unfamiliar feeling dug into his chest. It was an odd malady, much like a deep tightening within. He pushed away the plate before him, despite it being still full of roasted pork.

His nephew Crach, seated beside him, quirked a brow. “Are you alright, Uncle?” he enquired as he took a long gulp of his beer.

Eist nodded, his eyes still locked unto Calanthe and Foltest, the latter of whom were now engaged in conversation. He inhaled sharply as he saw the King rest a hand upon Calanthe’s shoulder, causing a further tightening in his chest. “Aye. I’ve just… lost my appetite.” 

Taking Eist’s words as an invitation, Crach helped himself to the pork on Eist’s plate. “I don’t blame you. Seeing a sister fooker is a disgusting sight. Of all the women in the world available and you fook your own kin? Somethings wrong upstairs with that gent, crown or no crown.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“The Temerian over there. He’s a sister-fooker that one. They say he fooked his sister up until she died.” a loud belch escaped Crach, the ale he had been imbibing throughout the night deepening his Skellige accent.

Eist rolled his eyes. He should have known Crach would make a joke out of this. The lad never took anything seriously, especially when alcohol was within the horizon. “One, mind your manners. Two, mind your honor. Gossip is highly unbecoming.”

Crach shrugged. “Is it a rumor if I heard it all the way in Skellige? Hell of a journey it's made if it is just a rumor without the weight of truth” the young man took another long swig of ale, followed by another belch. “Nay, if I wanted to gossip I’d share what the others say have to say about you.”

Sapphire orbs rolled in annoyance. “And what would that be?” he expected some jab at his many years at sea as a bachelor, just as those jokes always were.

“Nay, that you follow the Queen like a lovesick pup, wanting to fook her.”

Eist’s palm made contact with Crach’s head, slapping him upside it as he stormed off from the table.

Matching sapphire orbs watched their Uncle depart from the table abruptly, a smirk hidden beneath a flaming red beard. “Y’know I can’t feel mah neck. But trus’, I hol’ no regrets.” he snickered, helping himself to more pork and ale. 

Across from him, Mousesack shook his head, giving the lad a disapproving look. “Was that necessary, to antagonize your Uncle so?”

Crach shrugged “Wouldn’t have antagonized him if it weren’t true, now would it? Pay up, Druid.”

The Druid rolled his eyes but begrudgingly handed the younger man a healing tonic as well as a handful of coin. A bet made, is a bet honored, after all. 

\--

Eist stood at the balcony of his guest chambers, overlooking the Cintran grounds, a pipe in hand that he occasionally inhaled deeply. Despite the merriment still likely occurring in the Dining Halls down below Eist took solace in the peaceful silence within the stone walls of the balcony, illuminated by starlight and moonlight. It reminded him of Kaer Trolde in many ways, with its firm embrace. Eist was not one who typically fled adversity and truthfully he was a bit more than embarrassed at storming off from the dinner table but he could not help himself. He His mood had already been soured at watching Foltest and Calanthe and Crach’s jab did not help manners further. It was either leave the table and cool off or linger and beat Crach, or worst, Foltest. As tempting as the latter option was, Eist was not particularly fond of the idea of returning to his brother, King Bran, and explaining how Skellige found itself at war with Temeria. So engrossed in his thoughts that he did not notice the presence beside him until it was made known through the sound of a throat being cleared.

It was Calanthe.

“Your Grace!” Eist started, bowing as decorum demanded. “Forgive me, I did not know you were there.”

She gave a half smile and half smirk. “I gathered as much, considering you did not hear me knocking at your door. Forgive the intrusion. I am not of the habit of entering my guest’s quarters without announcement but I wanted to ensure you were well, especially as my knocks went unheeded.”

“Apologies, your Majesty. I did not hear you. I was… distracted.” he admitted with a small embarrassed smile.

She did not press further, instead joining him at his side, looking at the sight of her country before them. “I can’t blame. Cintra is, after all, a most beautiful sight.”

“Aye. I have never seen such beauty before.” He was not looking at the city as he spoke those words.

“No? Those are indeed kind words and high regards from a man as well as traveled as yourself.”

“And I mean them. There has never been a sight to steal my breath as much as this.”

She met his gaze then, finally seeing how he looked at her. Whether or not she understood, however, remained to be seen. Ever the Monarch, her face betrayed nothing of her thoughts and only provided small hints such as the hint of a smirk that appeared on her lips and tinted her words. “I wish I could say the same for our celebrations. It seems you are not fond of Cintran festivities, given your abrupt exit.”

He flushed at her words. She had apparently noticed. “I apologize for my rudeness, your Majesty. T’was not my intent. I was… not feeling well.”

“Hmm… I believe I can relate. The company left much to be desired.” brown eyes glanced at the pipe in his hands curiously, shifting closer to extend her hand for it. “May I?” 

Wordlessly, he handed the pipe to her, his mind still processing what was said about. “Oh?”

She took the pipe from him and glanced at it curiously, her fingers tracing the intricate designs of it. “This never leaves this balcony but no. Much of our trade is done so with Temeria and I respect them in that regard, but my respect goes no further, especially for their King.” Eist watched as the Queen brought the pipe to her lips. He barely suppressed a moan as the tip of it was encompassed by her luscious lips, desire pooling at his core. She inhaled, holding the smoke for a few seconds before exhaling, leaving a soft whisper of smoke to caress his features, fueling the desire he felt. It was amazing, he thought, how even the simplest of gestures could be done by the Queen so sensually. He was painfully aware of how close they were now and even more painfully aware of just how aware other parts of him were. He prayed the night was dark enough that she may not notice.

“I am pleased to hear that…” he breathed out, utterly intoxicated by her allure. He hadn’t meant to speak those words, but they had slipped out before he could stop them. “If it is not too bold of me to say.” he hastily added.

A raven eyebrow arched in surprise “I welcome boldness. It is confusion and obscurity I hold a disdain for.”

“Your Majesty, I-”

“Speak plainly. Since when does a Jarl of Skellige care about the Queen of Cintra’s company? Surely Skellige is not concerned by such matters.”

Eist hesitated. There was a reason his brother handled politics and he the navy. “No, certainly not, your grace. Skellige holds no such concern over such matters and rightfully so. After all, you are the Lioness of Cintra. You hold rights over all for your Kingdom and your will ought not to ever be questioned.”

He did not realize he walked right into a trap at that moment, specifically the paw of the Lioness.

The smirk deepened. “I am pleased you feel that way, Eist. I trust then, as you feel that way, that you will offer me the truth I seek without the formalities of decorum. I shall ask again. Why does a Jarl of Skellige care about the Queen of Cintra’s company?” she stepped closer to him. _So, so close…_ Her face was mere inches from his own. “Why were you giving King Foltest death glares this entire evening at my table?”

He swallowed, both out of intimidation at where this conversation was going and also of their vanishing distance. “I was not-”

“Don’t. Lie. To me.”

“Your Majesty…” He tried to back away, stepping backwards, but the Queen followed.

“Speak plainly.”

“I cannot-” She knew the area better than he. He should have known better, a thought he belatedly had as his back met the wall. The Queen continued like a Lioness cornering her prey.

“You will.”

“Decorum-”

“Decorum be damned.” Their distance was gone, yielding to flesh as the Queen pressed herself up against the Jarl of Skellige. He felt his flesh burn with desire and balled his hands into fists to fight the urge to run them through her curves. His heart raced faster than the winds of a maelstrom as blue eyes met brown. “I will have an answer. _Now_.”

He was doomed either way. He had already crossed the line by having made a scene before the Queen with his actions at the banquet and had deepened the situation with his comments. To falter back now would only fuel her annoyance, especially such a strong willed and upfront woman as his Queen. And so he obeyed, bending his knee to the Queen’s wish with an unspoken answer. Decorum shattered and his lips pressed against hers fiercely. His mouth crashed into hers and his tongue traced her lips, begging for entrance.To his delight and awe she granted it and tongues engaged in an intimate battle. They only parted to catch their breath and Eist rested his fore against hers. 

“I could have you thrown in the pillory for that,” she breathed against him.

He swallowed at those words, his heart still racing. As Queen she certainly outranked him. This transgression at her domain would justify any action she deemed fit.

“It was worth it” he uttered softly and honestly. “The Queen will do as she pleases, as is her right. And if it be her will that I shall be punished, then so be it.” Emboldened by thoughts that this may be his final moments, his hand reached to gently stroke her cheek, reveling in its softness. “I shall die happy.” 

Brown eyes studied him for moments in silence before the Queen nodded. “Aye, that you will.” He took a deep breath at those words, his hand dropping to his side in defeat…

Only to have his Queen take his hand once more and pull him towards his bed. Lips made their way to his neck as she whispered, “But not tonight…” before biting it fiercely.

_"Decorum be damned, indeed..."_ the Jarl thought to himself before reason soon yielded to pleasure.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Hope you all enjoyed! Please feel free to leave any feedback or requests!
> 
> ~tayls_of_elysium


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